


Little Dreams

by Coraleeveritas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coraleeveritas/pseuds/Coraleeveritas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne may be shy, but that doesn't mean she's incapable of entertaining a few sexual fantasies about the Kingslayer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> So more smut for the J/B online ficathon instead of working on ... Butterflies. (Sorry)
> 
> I'm going to try and keep these in a chronological order, almost a first to last fantasy and I hope these will all be seen as in character for Brienne to think about.
> 
> I really can't do silly so they will be all on the serious side. Some will be notably smuttier than others as coming up with five drabbles on basically the same subject, and avoiding repetition, is a lot tougher than I originally thought.
> 
> And I'm aiming to have all five posted this week.
> 
> None if this belongs to me, any line you recognise is taken directly from ASOS.

Brienne was coming to the realisation that the bathhouse in Harrenhal wasn't a unique occurrence. 

Hyle found the abandoned building and after a cursory glance, Brienne agreed with his decision to spend a night under a solid roof rather than out on the road. She still couldn't bring herself to fully trust the wandering hedge knight though, there was too much talk of beddings and heirs to build the same kind of relationship she'd developed with her quiet squire.

The boy had bravely volunteered for the first watch and Brienne had nodded, reluctant to dent his confidence in front of the older man Pod was becoming to respect. Not for the first time, Brienne wished Ser Jaime was travelling with them. His japes would continue to bother her, where as Hyle's no longer did, but it would feel a great deal safer to have him sleep at her side and the Lord Commander was the far better swordsman even if when she'd left him in Kings Landing he was still adjusting to his weaker left hand.

Brienne stared at the long empty bathtubs and remembered him walking towards her all that time ago, half a god and half a corpse, her mind soothed as Hyle quietened and settled down to sleep.

With Pod resolutely standing guard and Hyle beginning to softly snore, Brienne finally felt comfortable enough to close her eyes and give herself over to long prayed for peaceful slumber.

It wasn't the first time she'd dreamt of Ser Jaime, he was often there behind her eyes to poke and prod, but it was the first time the dream drifted into strange pleasantries previously reserved for a dead King.

Steam rose from the tub she found herself in, the warmth a gentle familiarity she had long missed, though when Brienne looked up from the surface of the water she found she was not alone.

"There are other tubs", she heard herself tell him, the same words she had spoken to Ser Jaime the first time they had shared a bath.

"This one suits me well enough", he was up to his neck in the water again, Brienne reliving the night she learnt of the madness of Aerys Targaryen. 

Even in the dream she somehow knew what was coming next, the confession spoken for her ears only and realised she had no desire to hear Ser Jaime's story again.

Brienne stood up, making the decision to leave the bathhouse before any further words could be spilt but was caught by the look the knight sent her way.

This time Ser Jaime didn't divert his gaze, his eyes trailing over her lack of feminine curves. There was no quick apology as the glinting emeralds considered her rapidly pebbling nipples, the almost nonexistent curve of her waist, ending up in the thicket of blonde hair below her strong, flat stomach.

"Forgive me", Ser Jaime muttered, his eyes rising to wander back over the expanse of freckled skin and Brienne shivered under the intensity of his gaze despite the heat of the water. "That was unworthy."

He still didn't look away though, even after Brienne had snapped out of her momentary trance and brought her arms around to hide small maidenly treasures from further investigation.

"As you are not interested, Ser, I will overlook the indiscretion", Brienne found her tongue and spoke the only truth available to her, awkwardly falling back into the water to shield herself from his curiosity.

"Wench", Ser Jaime shook his head like he was mocking her and Brienne attempted to cover more of her still exposed flesh under the translucent water in case it was the cause of his amusement. 

"If I faint, pull me out", he muttered as he began to half swim, half walk towards her, "No Lannister has ever drowned in his bath and I don't mean to be the first."

She wondered when she had began to care how he died but had no time to speak her concerns before Ser Jaime's hand was lightly stroking along her arm.

"If I'd said I was interested you would have never believed me", the sensation of his fingers circling over her slick skin forcing her to breathe a little quicker.

"No one has ever ..." Brienne began to tell him but Ser Jaime stopped her protestations with a kiss. She had read of the chaste embraces shared between the Maiden and the Warrior, but as soon as she felt his mouth open to nibble and lick at her lower lip all chastity disappeared.

She tensed briefly as his hand moved to grip into her hip, his bandaged right arm coming behind her head, cradling her in the crook of his elbow. Brienne's thighs fell apart automatically, her body taking over from her mind to allow herself to feel Ser Jaime press against the untouched but ever so tender flesh.

He bobbed in the water to bring himself closer, sending fresh sparks along every spot they were joined, the only thing keeping her grounded being the waves their movements were sending lapping over her relaxing muscles.

"Tell me what you want, Brienne" his mouth fell to her ear, his cheek nuzzling against her jaw and neck.

"I want you", the confession seemed to shock her more than it did him, though the gnawing in her belly and the pooling heat between her thighs screamed that it was no lie.

His name flowed out of her to hang in the air as Ser Jaime's hand moved up along her ribs, squeezing at her breast before gripping down into the muscle at her shoulder.

She murmured his name again as he positioned himself to rid her of her maidenhead, every movement gentle and considered.

"It will hurt My Lady", his voice was hoarse as he stopped his hips from moving.

"I have felt much worse", Brienne promised, hanging on to him as he slowly pushed inside, the pain blooming and receding in seconds until the grip at her shoulder became too much to handle, pulling her away from the flickers of pleasure running down her legs.

"Ser ... I mean My Lady", Pod shook her  awake, his small hand holding on tight enough to bruise as the rapid rise and fall of her chest caused the boy to wrinkle his face in worry. She quickly glanced over to where she had left their other travelling companion, thanking the gods that Hyle was still asleep and hadn't heard her murmurings.

"It was only a dream Pod", she told him, slowing her breathing down and ignoring the very real pleasure pain still burning through her. "A little air is all I need."

Her small clothes felt uncomfortably damp as she headed out into the dark, the weight of Pod's concerned face heavily hanging over every step. 

It didn't take long until Brienne was out from under his eyes, the dark failing to take her away from memories given new life in a familiar environment. Stumbling over the stump of a tree long since removed for firewood, she sat down for a long minute before immodestly imagining her hand was that of Ser Jaime's. Inexpertly rubbing away the need awoken by a dream, she brought herself to a quiet breathy completion promising herself that it would be the only time she would think of him in this way.


	2. The Cloak

She can't remember the words.

A stream of oaths and vows muddle in her head, sticking in her throat as Brienne tries to make sense of the scene in front of her. The Septon looks down on her and frowns, as an all too familiar laughing tone starts to throw away words for her to repeat.

She attempts to swallow away the embarrassment but her face blares conspicuously with colour, one cheek burning hotter than any smith's furnace, as she stumbles over words that make little sense to her anymore. All Brienne can remember is the oath she made to Ser Jaime, bound with the strength of Valyrian steel, to bring Catelyn Stark's daughters back from the wilds into the arms of familial safety.

She is missing her own family, she realises, but it has been years since she walked along the shores of the Sapphire Isle. Her family has changed, merged, shifted, to that of a loyal but mumbling squire and a golden knight who's image she can't seem to rid herself of.

It comes to Brienne in such a rush of feeling that it makes her burning cheek throb anew; she is in love with him.

The Septon begins to talk again, his mouth opening and closing, though no sound reaches her ears. His sung praises all but lost in the gap between desire and apprehension. 

Brienne recognises one word in a sea of haze, the singing whisper of a sword cutting through the air, and her heart stops as she finally understands what is to come next.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

No, she thinks as everything around her brightens, an unseen adversary come to stab and wound deeper than any glancing tourney blow, the Stark girls need me. Ser Jaime needs me.

Brienne looks down, searching for Oathkeeper or any one of her usual hidden weapons to escape from whatever match her father has deemed appropriate this time, but finds herself without steel and clothed in the almost pretty blue dress Ser Jaime had made for her back before he sent her away.

The man hovering beside her, grinning at his good fortune, is not one of gold and red but of brown, plain instead of beautiful and as there is little hope that she can fight her way free Brienne sees no other option but to turn and run. Her feet carrying her past a veritable army of shocked holy men and women, down the clean steps of the Sept and out into her very first memory of Kings Landing. 

She pays little attention to the bustle or the smell, both a sudden shock to her senses now dulled from many moons travelling from abandoned town to abandoned town, for there is only one place she can go now.

Her borrowed bedchamber is cold and dark, but it is hers and hers alone and the strong bolt will keep out any unwanted guests. Her eyes fall on Oathkeeper, hung carefully alongside her usual masculine attire, and as she falls to her knees Brienne searches her mind to how she arrived back in Kings Landing, with Hyle as her betrothed, and finds no explanation.

A figure moves out of the darkness, gleaming in front of her as she automatically reaches for her sword. He laughs at her defensive reaction and Brienne feels herself relax at the sound.

"And here I was thinking you'd be pleased to see me."

Brienne's hands are trembling as she attempts to describe what she has just ran from, "There was a wedding. I thought ..."

"The Kingsguard are forbidden to marry, Wench", Ser Jaime chastises as she thinks of unbuckling his ornate armour, the gold and white almost magically falling away as soon as the thought leaves her head, "But that doesn't mean I can't lay claim to what is mine."

His hand closes around one of hers,  still unable to stop the shaking, bringing it up to his lips for a knightly embrace, his smile all predator. "Or have you forgotten that I am yours and you are mine? Now and forever."

Her mouth falls open in surprise, she can't remember those words any clearer than her forgotten vows, but he is there to pull her up of the floor and soothe the shock away.

She meets his kiss after she grows accustomed to the touch, her hands roaming over and under his pure white tunic as his lips take in her lips, neck and freckled chest. The bed is close and she is led to it, every half step stilted by yet another press of his mouth or slide of her hands.

He should be better than this, Brienne thinks of the promises of the Kingsguard as he rips away at the front lacing of the dress, his hand slipping beneath to close around one of her underdeveloped breasts. His thumb alternatively flicks and rubs, producing the tiniest of noises which he steals and swallows with the press of his lips to her throat.

She'd borne witness to the subtle shifts in his character, Brienne tries and fails to remember the days in the care of the Bloody Mummers as Ser Jaime repeats his earlier movement causing her responding sigh to rise in volume, the oath breaker he no longer wanted to be.

Ser Jaime spoke as if he could read her mind, before his mouth took over from his hand, attempting to suckle at her through the thin blue material. "I'm already cursed Brienne, one more night isn't going to change that."

It makes all the difference, she thinks as he finally grows frustrated with what is still hidden from him and messily tears the dress away, because one night is never going to be enough for either of them.

She is naked beneath him now, exposed, but it feels like nothing has ever been so right before. His kisses burn and bruise as he tastes her skin, sweat beading in the wake of each practised graze. Every touch seemingly branding her with one word she has no problem remembering; mine, mine, mine.

"Now and forever", her words are a whisper as she considers everything she's ever sworn or promised before. Ser Jaime's head falls to the juncture between her legs at her breathy admission, her compliant knees parting around him gently, his hand stroking along her inner thigh. 

He's murmuring something into the skin there, three muffled words into the flesh he cut at, but she doesn't want to acknowledge the feeling behind it in case he is pulled from her again.

His mouth settles and she groans at the action, the lapping pulling wanton noises out of her. Somewhere in the back of her head a voice tells her that she's not supposed to enjoy this, that she's a whore for moaning and pleading and tugging on his hair when he finally hits a spot that makes her scream.

Kingslayer's Whore, it whispers and she wakes to a burning, blinding pain.


	3. The Inn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The difficult middle chapter as it's half in book canon, half out of it.
> 
> Hopefully it makes as much sense as the earlier chapters :) 
> 
> Lines in here taken from AFFC and ADWD.

A days ride she had promised, the false words slipping past her lips like the slowly disappearing sweetness of summer. Come alone or the Hound will kill her.

She hadn't expected Jaime to follow so willingly, the lies still uneasy on the tip of her tongue as he called for a squire to saddle his horse. He was meant to fight, mock the misfortunes that had led to her face deteriorating to a point of grotesqueness, not throw himself onto a snow white charger and regard her through an almost concerned gaze without a single word of doubt.

It wasn't supposed to be that easy, Brienne thought, to lead him to his death.

The road back was treacherous and her horse, almost as tired as she was after spending days riding in circles, was stumbling with every other step.

"The beast is dying", Jaime confirmed from her side with the confidence of a man who had seen it all happen a hundred times before. "And you need to rest before you follow it into the grave."

"Lady Sansa..." she reminded him carefully.

He fixed her with a look of clear superiority, "Will have to wait a few hours more, wench. Unless you are content to leave this world with your quest unfulfilled."

Her reply was as painful as it was heartfelt, "I am no oath breaker." The words hung on the air and Brienne realised no matter what outcome tomorrow would bring, peaceful sleep may never be within her reach again until The Stranger took her.

Surprisingly they found a long abandoned Inn not thirty paces down the makeshift road, even the name having disappeared from above the door, but the bed they discovered inside looked cleaner than Brienne had been expecting. And the fact that all the doors secured with heavy bolts that would keep out any Brotherhood scouts for several days, Brienne found she felt far safer than she had done in a long time.

"Rest", Jaime commanded and she half stumbled half fell into a welcome softness, everything turning green for a long moment as he caught and kept her in his eyes, before her body finally surrendered to sleep.

It was darker than ever inside her head and Brienne readied herself for fight, not noticing the fire burning down to glowing embers in a corner of the unrecognisable room until she came across the golden knight keeping watch.   
Jaime had his back to her, warming himself as he kept an eye on the tightly locked door. 

She moved quickly away from his gaze as he turned, seemingly distracted by the sounds produced as she moved in the bed. 

"I can't do this..." the words escaped even though Brienne hadn't meant them to.

"You can't sleep?" he asked, walking across the room in concern, coming close enough to let her shiver as his warmth and vitality seeped through her, undeniably alive.

Brienne felt clumsy as she turned into him, raising her hand to touch his face as if trying to ascertain why she'd been allowed to keep him for longer than usual. 

Avoiding the harsh calluses on her palm she rubbed her knuckles gently along his cheekbone and the unblemished skin below, Jaime's eyes flickering at the brief contact, his good hand entwining in one of hers.

"You're doing fine so far", he replied, misinterpreting her intentions. His lips gently brushing against hers seconds later, the touch little more than a second of human contact before he pulled away.

Brienne found she couldn't let it stop there though, not when he was so close, and she stretched to stay with him. He quickly caught up to make every meeting of their lips a test to find out what best made her sigh or groan.

Her free hand searched for a grip in his hair, his free arm snaking up under her tunic to find skin and they stood clinging to each other until the fire burnt completely out. He kept the kiss slow, romantic, every single touch as important as the last or the next. Brienne felt her knees start to buckle as the onslaught moved inside her mouth, his tongue flicking against hers as she tightened her hold on his head.

There was a undercurrent of pain as she realised just how much the kissing was starting to hurt. Her barely healed flesh stretching as she moved under Jaime's clever mouth, even if all the other pains had eased into nothingness in favour of other tingling sensations.

She was falling back into the bed before she realised it, her knees giving way as she hit the side, Jaime gently easing her down into the softness. The bed held her as she battled back against his obvious control, becoming stronger as he brought their still entwined hands above her head.

If only she could have found the words to make him understand, Brienne thought as the now familiar slow burn began anew between her legs, if only she had found Sansa quicker, if only she could have kept Pod safe. If only, if only.

Her body wantonly arched into his as Jaime ground down with a growl, both of them becoming desperate to remove the layers of clothing preventing them from joining properly. The curses fell out of his mouth as he attempted to undo her laces without a hand and Brienne caught each one with a rough press of her lips, finally letting go of his hand in order to remove his tunic.

Jaime didn't even try to undress her completely, too impatient now to consider baring miles of freckled skin, simply pulling at her breeches and small clothes enough to be able to test her with an eagerly stroking finger. Brienne moaned in approval at the expert touch, arching up again as her rough hands fell to massage at the muscles rolling along his back, each touch making them alternatively hiss and groan in contentment like they were slowly stripping away miles of unspoken need.

He was unprepared when she snapped open his breeches, too focused on the noises associated with her growing pleasure, as she boldly took him in hand. Jaime fully exposed now as she remained partially hidden and the long groan from the back of his throat is well worth the blushes that cover her skin as his desire grows at her simple touch. 

Brienne pulled him down to her, feeling his heartbeat through her tunic and watching as the green disappeared around his eyes as he finally pushes himself inside. The movements are careful at first until she begins to meet each one with an amazingly primal want. The growing enthusiasm of their coupling starting to let the old bed almost make as much noise as the pair in it, Jaime's lips falling to dust broken and unblemished flesh equally with noisy open mouthed touches of desire as she eventually looses control of her breathing.

Brienne wrapped herself around him as his movements became erratic, ankles crossing behind his knees to encourage him deeper like that movement would protect him, save him from Catelyn's wrath, that she could break one oath to keep another. He was not the man he once was. 

"Jaime", his name was a knife, twisting in her belly even as everything else built up inside of her, pushing towards the purity of release.

"Brienne", she heard him call her name but it was like she was underwater, so far away even as she felt him move inside her again and again.

The explosion hit in a flurry of emotion and the slow trickle of tears running down her cheeks was unavoidable, the salt water equally icy cold and burning hot. Her healing flesh stung on contact though Jaime wiped each drop away as best he could, fingertips and lips, asking her to forgive him in whispers.

There was nothing she had to forgive, she thought as her muscles quaked in endless aftershocks and if it hadn't have been for the danger she'd left an innocent in, Brienne would have been quite content to stay there, safe with Jaime, until the world burned. 

She opened her mouth to tell him everything, to warn him but a sudden pressure across her stomach stopped her.

"Jaime?" she questioned and he was there, much too close for reality but the dream had faded away as she opened her eyes to meet the dark and the man beside her was dressed again. 

He had his arm over her stomach, lying on his side as he held her still, regarding her carefully through sleep filled eyes.

"Since when have you had nightmares?"

She removed his arm, hoping the blackness let her blush go unnoticed, that there had been no terror behind her apparent shuddering, "A lot has happened since you left", she croaked.

Jaime studied her face, her neck, with the same sort of sadness she'd witnessed in her dream and Brienne moved out of their apparent shared bed before the heat coming off her could flame any brighter.

"Sansa Stark isn't close is she?"

Brienne shook her head, keeping her face hidden from him.

"Then where are you taking me Brienne?"

To your death, she thought as the truth spilled out of her.


	4. The Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this chapter is probably the least smutty so far, and the one I have most concerns about, so I hope that doesn't take away from the sexual fantasy element of the prompt.

Brienne had travelled through so many places, abandoned towns and bustling cities alike, that the similarities were beginning to blur in her head. Though she would remember the low stone wall she found herself standing beside, the stream bubbling nearby, until the day she died. Even if the last time she'd been there summer was still raging on with the sun high in the sky.

Now only moonlight spread through the trees, glistening where it met the lightly falling snow. Winter had been threatening for a while, the nights had begun to get noticeably colder but as yet Brienne had not seen a frost as heavy as that beneath her feet. The snow melted as it kissed her hair, matting the strands of straw together, running in rivers down her armour.

The same armour gentle hands had stripped her of with careful consideration for the damage beneath. There was a cave, Brienne's mind flared with a glimmer of reality, a cave she hadn't expected to walk away from.

"I thought we were long past this", Jaime's voice purred out, carrying on the air so easily that she had no idea from which direction he would approach. "Why don't you give me the sword Brienne?"

She hadn't even noticed Oathkeeper was in her hand until Jaime told her it was, the hilt slick with something thicker than the frozen water falling from the sky. 

"Never", she heard herself call out, "You may have named it but I intend to wield it."

Jaime stepped out from behind a tree, ferociously full of battle lust, and charged. It took no less than two paces for Brienne to meet him, her movements practiced and calm.

Over their crossed blades Jaime leant to rub her oversensitive cheek with his own, clean shaven rather than the rough graze of hair she had been expecting. "I'm strong enough", he laughed into her ear before spinning away.

She hadn't questioned his strength in a long time, Brienne thought as she brought her weapon up again to meet his in a glancing blow. The swords were near identical she noticed as they kissed, red and black rippling like they belonged together.

"Do you concede my lady?" Jaime asked as he stepped back, speeding up the second time to force her to meet his challenge. The swords seem to call to each other, wanting the hit and Brienne was inexplicably pulled forward before she was completely ready to block his move. Faster he came at her, steel slashing and screaming, trying to force her back even a single step.

Her blood was thundering through her veins, a steady beat in her ears through each strike and step, always moving, almost graceful, never letting him get close enough to land a proper blow. 

"Do you concede wench?" He mocked as she hesitated, finding only clear air to hack away at as if Jaime had anticipated her move before she had even managed to finish thinking it.

"It will not hurt you", he promised and she felt his breath on her neck, the tip of his sword tapping against her hip, a warning, a playful reminder to keep her mind focused on the task in front, behind, all around her.

"As if it could", Brienne countered but they did not feel wholly like her own words. His sword tapped again, strangely vibrating along the padded material and up her torso, the sensation forcing her breath to hitch.

Jaime let out a warm exhale against her neck, the glinting sword falling to rest along her left thigh, making even skin under layers of leather and plate prickle and rise. "Yield", he murmured and Brienne merely shivered in response.

"Say it", he growled, tantalising close but refusing to reduce the distance until she gave him what he wanted.

She shook her head, afraid of how broken and girlish her spoken denials would sound, and Jaime gave up to take the half step forward. Wrapping  his right arm around her in encouragement, his chin came to rest upon her shoulder.

"Say it", he repeated into her skin, his nose brushing aside the stray hairs that had escaped the odd short braid that fell straight down her back. Jaime's lips pressed and her eyes closed automatically.  

"I ...", he prompted, nuzzling up under her ear to find places untouched by the wounds of war. 

Brienne gasped as he nipped at her ear lobe, his tongue darting out to trace teasing touches along the shell. "I ...", she moaned and his laugh was once again all she could hear.

"And the rest wench", he breathed, pressing the bulk of his body against hers as his mouth continued to search out hidden soft spots. 

Her back arched a little as he fastened his lips around her pulse point, marking the skin there the best way he knew how. Licking and kissing up the column of her neck she heard Jaime drop his red and black blade to hold her already trembling body steady. His good hand gripped into the cloth covering her hips trying to find the warmth hidden beneath as his right arm rose from waist to chest.

Finally surrendering Brienne let the sword in her hand join his on the ground, her palm remaining warm and wet though uncovered it should have been cold. Using the ice as leverage she turned in his arms to find Jaime pink cheeked and panting but still waiting.

"Tell me", he demanded, his hand rising to take a hold of her face, "Say it."

"I love you", she promised forgoing the yield and Jaime looked stunned for a second before finally crashed into her. It became a mantra as Brienne helped him remove her armour between breathless kisses, the plate joining the other metal in the snow and staining the ground a recognisable red in the process. 

She shook her head, the colour disappearing with the movement and Brienne returned all her attention to peeling away the golden wrappings holding back her hungry knight from further acting on their mutual desire.

He shouldn't be in gold, she chastised herself as armour and clothing fell quickly away, it shouldn't be snowing, it shouldn't be night, everything felt off somehow.

Jaime stumbled as he stripped, laughing even as he fell on his arse and covered in moonlight only Brienne took his offered hand, lowering herself onto her knees in the melting snow to feel him pressing between her thighs. She rocked against him, groaning as he hardened immediately, her hips bucking and rolling in slow controlled movements as Jaime looked up at her in adoration.

His hand wrapped around her braid before he flipped them into a more familiar position, Brienne falling gently  back into the no longer cold snow. She waited for the brush of his lips, the feel of him thrusting and filling her but it didn't come. 

His fingers danced painfully over her ribs on their way lower, a press and a whisper, "What did you do?"

She moved her hand over Jaime's, both of them coming away red under the moon's glow. She took in a shocked breath as the pain spread where there should have been ecstasy, "I don't know. I can't remember."

 

"My lady", the young Maester's voice caught Brienne in her half conscious state and pulled her back from the brink. "The boy has woken and is asking for you."

"That is good news, thank you", Brienne found a smile and the Maester seemed to disappear a little into his furs at it's arrival, almost embarrassed. It was a rare thing indeed for her to be seen as a woman, but maybe it was more the stories of her skill that led to the respect. Pushing herself to her feet she felt her bones cry out in pain from her less than comfortable sleeping position, the question whispering past her lips being little more than sound on the air. 

"And what of Ser Jaime?"

"My lady, you really must let me tend to your wounds"

Brienne shook of the concern, she'd had enough of potions, poultices and poppies. "It is but a scratch", she lied, "It will heal. Ser Jaime was cut deeper, is there any news?"

"The Kingslayer ..." he began and she glared, the look a hundred times worse than what Oathkeeper in her hands had done to Jaime. 

"Pardon my lady but Jaime Lannister has gone. He left with the dawn", the Maester handed over a scrappy piece of parchment, the script on it childlike, "He asked that I give you this."

She grasped at it, searching for any sign of why he left so suddenly without an explanation.

I forgive you, please forgive me, Brienne read before the rest blurred and ran away beneath her frustrated tears.


	5. The Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double length chapter to finish off, mainly because I wanted the happy end.
> 
> For those who asked what happened with The Brotherhood, I hope this satisfies your curiosity.
> 
> I have thoroughly enjoyed coming up with this storyline and must thank desi a million times over for her original prompt and to everyone who has read, commented and left kudos: THANK YOU!

It had gotten perishingly cold in The Vale and despite the numerous moons that had passed since Pod had recovered enough to travel, Brienne had yet to get used to the freezing burn that filled her lungs with every step, robbing her of breath.  

The Maester, the son of Randyll Tarly and as unlike his father as she would have thought possible, had filled in as many details as he could of what had happened with The Brotherhood and why she and Pod had been briefly in the care of the Night's Watch.

Brienne had fought, she remembered that much, her body groaned from whispers of wounds if she moved the wrong way which now made her feel far older than her twenty something years and Jaime fought back. It was supposed to be a diversionary tactic, his idea, but she was tired and malnourished while Jaime was fitter and stronger than she remembered. 

She had cut him though. Oathkeeper becoming a false promise as the blood flowed from shallow wounds, merging with the red of the blade as if it was coming home. Jaime bled and Brienne burned, whatever was left of the fever running out in what she assumed would be her final minutes. The Brotherhood were getting angry, Stoneheart furious that she did not have The Kingslayer's head to parade around yet.

And then the arrows started flying. 

Maester Sam picked up his part of the tale as if telling it to a child, Pod and the wildling girl he had with him both listening eagerly as Brienne mourned what had been lost.

Jaime had knocked her unconscious right about the time the second arrow had pierced her armour, and she still didn't know if it was in retaliation for accidentally catching him heavily at his ribcage or if he was trying to protect her from further damage.

He had been the one to pull her out after the group of Night's Watch men had shown up, riding past on their way back to The Wall and despite the lack of experience in the new recruits The Brotherhood had taken one look at the incoming half army and either scattered or died on their feet with whatever weapons they could find still in their hands. Stoneheart was gone too, at least for now.

Brienne had been grateful for the assistance, especially when she had finally been conscious enough to realise that Pod was still breathing and out of danger for now. Hunt had escaped, in no great rush to either die or be in debt to the Night's Watch even if it meant conceding his wanted betrothal. She found she didn't miss his presence. 

Maester Sam told them of Ser Jaime's ferocity, refusing to let anyone else touch Brienne other than the young healer, removing her armour himself with overly gentle hands. She only wished there were more than stories to keep her going.

It was the worst at night, when the dark settled in and the world melted away, leaving Brienne feeling more like the young scared girl she had fought so often to keep hidden away from prying eyes than she would have liked. Pod needed her to be strong, Lady Sansa would as well once they'd finally managed to persuade her to join them. Maester Sam had the ear of her bastard brother and he had promised to inform Lord Snow that his sister would be arriving soon.

But even though the time for standing watch had long past, the winds still whistled and wolves howled from outside Lady Sansa's dwelling, Brienne's mind went unbidden to the promise of dawn and the golden rays of the winter sun.

Though it was never the only golden kiss her mind wandered to in the dark.

She hadn't seen him, Jaime, for what felt like half a lifetime ago even if he served every night in her dreams as diligently as she had kept pushing forward every day in reality. He'd disappeared almost seven moons ago, his note asking for forgiveness though he needed little. Brienne understood his duty, his honour and his cloak bound him to the Kingsguard for life. Through the tear stained parchment, he promised he would return once The Brotherhood were brought to justice but she doubted she would ever lay eyes on him again. Jaime could have waited for her but patience was never a strong point and a real goodbye would have once again been painful for both of them.

It wasn't hard to imagine him riding into the yard below her chamber, as the sun burst forth to herald yet another frozen day, wanting to follow her recklessly into another unescapable situation.

Only this time, she thought, when he swung down effortlessly from his horse to greet her, if he spoke of what he'd been dreaming of or tried to force an apology, she would meet his lips with hers before he could finish the sentence.

It had started as a childish wish, the quiver of primal fear wanting a little comfort to help her through the sleepless nights, but no matter what emotions were being awoken in her Brienne was no longer a child.

And that meant a kiss hadn't been enough in her mind for a long time.

Her bed was comfortable enough, the chamber more a jail cell in everything but name until Lady Sansa and her protector decided on their intentions. Brienne couldn't think that her and Pod looked like they provided much of a threat but she took the offer of shelter and food without much thought. She was granted an audience every other day and thought it wouldn't take much longer to get the girl to trust her.

But for now, locked in but unguarded she let her hands slip under blankets and clothes and thought of Jaime.

His single hand was in her hair, pulling and tangling amongst the dirty strands to bring her in closer as soon as the intention behind her move was realised.  Her lips were hesitant, clumsy but Jaime didn't care for anything other than the fact they were against his. There was an undeniable passion as he held her still, touching everywhere but only mouths moving for now, though it was teamed with a tenderness that she'd rarely used before to describe him.

Her hand moved the woollen under tunic up over her stomach, exposing the skin there as she could almost feel his shortened right arm slipping beneath the layers of furs she wore every time she would leave the house. Jaime seeking out the heat of her body to meld with his own and it wasn't just the cold that was preventing Brienne from catching her breath.

One of the skins granted to her had, perfectly ironic, originally belonged to a bear and it seemed appropriate when Brienne found the pelt had grown large enough to wrap around both her and Jaime. It made little sense, but by that point she was past caring as her left hand began to stroke along her stomach to toy at the skin above the thick leggings she wore at night.

When Jaime finally uncovered the merest sliver of skin, her hand dipping beneath her waistband at the thought, she hissed at the unfamiliar contact and his laugh muffled against her mouth, their heated kisses almost covering up the noise.

There was little fight left in her when Jaime silently asked her to follow, feeling wanton and wild as they quickened their pace, running all the way to the stables. Brienne began to feel warm enough to melt all the snow in the seven kingdoms and she dropped the pelt to the floor as soon as they stepped out of the cold, her unoccupied hands copying Jaime's assault across his no longer weakened body.

Tunics were easily removed, Brienne doing most of the work, and Jaime's head fell to where her hand was currently squeezing at her small breast. His tongue, her thumb, running over the sensitive nipple.

It would be an unfitting bedding for a maid of noble birth, but she'd had no news of Tarth for a very long time and in her heart knew it was likely it had fallen to one of the many incoming foes. There may be little left for anyone to lay claim to, never mind the daughter of the Evenstar. So she let her head fall back and bit through her lip as Jaime's fingers fumbled at laces and dove under the material beneath to find the proof of her desire.

It was a much needed distraction as she waited for the new day, bold enough to now bring her own fingers to the growing tingle between her legs.

Jaime teased her until she was trembling, groaning between breaths, between kisses, leaving her thankful for the strong arm wrapped around her back to help keep her standing even if in reality she was on her back touching herself where no innocent maid should have need to.

He guided her hand to his own need, Brienne already having felt it hard against her thigh and knowing instantly what it meant. Even though she had played out this particular scenario many times, it never failed to cause surprise in her to imagine how much Jaime could want her.

It was really too cold for either of them to undress properly, for them to really take the time to appreciate the other's form, but the bear skin was warm at her back and Jaime was warm at her chest so she allowed him to push her down her breeches and small clothes, his own falling to his ankles.

His hand grasped at her thigh, fingers running along the soft skin to lift it up to rest on his hip. Lips falling to her neck, he stroked along his length slowly before guiding his cock to nestle at her entrance.

She was soaked and needy by that point, no longer ignoring her body's reaction to the images in her head, Jaime's thrusting and her body bucking against each determined move.

Brienne imagined it would be far too easy to loose track of time as Jaime pushed to increase the pace of the strokes, held in the slow burn of coming release as the world faded away until there was nothing was left but this. The desperate joy of finally feeling fully alive.

There was a knock at her door and she flamed back to the chamber, the dawn was rising and she had let herself spend too long in a daydream.

"Ser. My Lady", Pod knocked again as she rearranged her clothes and wiped away her nightly excursions on the sheets. "You should look out of your window."

Brienne looked to find the sun rays cutting through the clear sky and over The Vale, the world was beautiful and still for one endless moment. 

At the top of the world a weary traveller stood and waved, the golden horse he was riding looked half dead but he was there as if the gods had heard her prayer and gave him back.

Brienne felt caught in a daze as her feet carried her out of the chamber, and down the stairs into the yard.

"Seven hells, you don't know how good it is to see your face wench", Jaime told her as she got close enough to drink him in.

"Yours too, Ser"

He reached for her and she melted on contact, and although the embrace was little more than a comradely hug he did push her much longer hair out of her eyes as if to better see the blue.

"Did you get my message?", he asked, not letting go just yet like holding onto a mirage for a second longer before it disappeared. 

"I understood why", Brienne replied, risking the chance to pull him a little tighter to her, "You had an army to command and The Brotherhood to disband. I wouldn't have gone without Pod."

"I should have waited until both you and your squire were well enough to come with me, I didn't think I ...", Jaime pushed her away gently, his words falling to a whisper, "I didn't think I would miss you so much."

Her eyes were wide as she told him of their victory, "We found Lady Sansa."

Jaime's hand brushed through her hair again, her stomach all fluttery, no one had ever held her like this in her entire life. "I knew you would", he murmured, staring into her eyes.

Brienne tried to take a step back, embarrassed by the contact that didn't appear to be breaking anytime soon. "There are rumours of the other Stark girl across the narrow sea."

"Let's get this one home first, before we start on the other."

"We?"

"We", he repeated, "I'm not leaving you to the wilds of winter again."

"Podrick has been taking excellent care of me", she bristled, "And I him."

Jaime shook his head, an unusual smile spreading across his face, "But does your squire keep you warm at night?"

She blinked, confused by his meaning when his smile was looking like he was coming down from the heat of battle.

"You are incredibly slow", he muttered, pulling her back against him, sharing his warmth and stealing hers. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it?"

"I would happily travel the Seven Kingdoms and beyond with you by my side", she spoke into his ear, her hands scared to move either up or down from the middle of his back.

"As my brother in arms", Jaime retorted, and she wondered why he sounded so disappointed, "Or as something else?"

"What else is there, Ser?"

"You great beast of a woman", he muttered, the hand stroking her hair suddenly tugging her head back. Her eyes caught his, the green there brighter than ever.

Brienne's heart began to speed up, her breathing following with ease to provide a visual display of what she hoped was a mutual feeling.

She felt his breath against her lips, closing her eyes before the pressure came. It was simple, brief but extraordinary.

"Am I still dreaming?" She asked and Jaime smiled against her skin, his palm of his gloved hand lightly tapping her unblemished cheek. It didn't hurt but it stung in a very real way, a flicker of almost pain that never existed in her head.

"If you are then so am I", he uttered, bringing his lips back to hers. How long it went on Brienne couldn't have said, but it felt too good to stop just yet.

"Your squire wants you", he told her, momentarily pulling away to point at an upstairs chamber window, "Lady Sansa appears to be becoming disturbed."

Brienne felt the heat flood her face, finally recognising that embracing Ser Jaime, The Kingslayer, in the open was not going to help build much needed trust with the young Stark girl. One more kiss, she thought, finding his mouth again and feeling her head spin as his tongue swirled around hers producing a muffled groan from one or both of them.

She removed herself from the intoxication, his warm lips briefly brushing against her cold forehead. "I'm never going to get rid of you now am I?"

Brienne felt the air move as he shook his head, reluctant to stop pressing his lips to her skin, "You're mine."

"Now and forever", she whispered, reminded of something her head had offered a long time ago.

"Sentimental wench", he laughed as she shot him a withering look. "Though I'm not sure what rules there are across the narrow sea."

She reached for his hand, trying not to smile too much "We need to re-introduce you to Lady Sansa"

He clasped it tightly in his, Brienne feeling the strength there, "Later my lady", he promised, "I would very much like to eat and bathe before I am presented."

"I could ask someone to draw you a bath", she bit her lip, "I have a chamber."

His grin was wicked, wanting, "Why are we still outside then wench?"

Brienne didn't think she took a single breath until her door was locked and Jaime was finally, really pressed against her. 

She couldn't help thinking that reality may turn out far better than any of her dreams had promised.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual I'm always grateful for any feedback. I am really appreciative of anyone who takes the time to comment on my, quite often, rambling storylines.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


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